Love Is A Battlefield
by Sunscorched
Summary: Every action has a reaction.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Love Is A Battlefield

Author: Scorch

Email: Miss_.uk

Rating: PG

Category: Humour/Romance

Summary: Every action has a reaction.

Disclaimer: I own nixies.

Distribution: , Lea's place, my place.

Notes: My first House fic, so any and all feedback will be appreciated. P.S. No frogs were harmed during the writing of this fic.

Prologue_..._

Neither was sure how it started or when.

It could have been when House accidentally mistook her lunch for his the other week, or it could have been when she accidentally mistook salt for sugar when making his morning coffee, or it could have been when he accidentally stood on her bare foot with his, or it could have been when she accidentally let slip to Cuddy about every single one of his hiding places.

How and whenever it started didn't matter anymore.

All that mattered was the keeping of pride, dignity, and self-respect.

She wasn't going to let him win and he wasn't going to let her win. A catch 22, one would say.

Sure, a truce could be called, but trust wouldn't exist on either side, so it'd be pretty pointless to shake hands and call it quits. As such, each day brought with it a routine that some would say bordered on lunacy.

&&&&&&

_Chapter 1..._

It was bright and early when Gregory House woke up on Monday morning. Blue eyes immediately darted to his left and he took a long, careful look.

Okay.

His curtains were still shut the way he shut them, so no signs of tampering.

Good.

His gaze went to his dresser and his little orange friend containing his little white friends. Hmm...

He sat up and oh so cautiously picked it up, bringing the bottle to eye level and surveyed every itty bitty inch of it. Everything looked fine, but there was always a chance...

The cap was expertly popped off and he allowed two pills to drop into his palm, then carefully studied them. He turned them both over and triple checked the symbol that clearly stated his pills hadn't been replaced with something else. Like Viagra or something that would give him breasts.

Luckily for her, his Vicodin was just that and he swallowed them both whole. Normally, he took his time and chewed them as he had a lie-in, but his time relaxing was to her advantage, and he simply couldn't take the risk.

Greg eased himself out of bed and before using his cane, he triple checked it just in case. He doubted she would do anything that would result in serious harm, but again, there was always a chance. A quick attempt at bending it showed that, no, it hadn't been filed in half or covered in glue while he slept.

Next, he gave his room a thorough searching for any form of spying device such as cameras, bugs disguised as pot plants and the like. Since nothing seemed out of order, he deemed it safe enough too move to the bathroom, a room that received the same treatment.

Handles, lids, rims, and faucets for various forms of adhesive. Superglue, for instance, could be used to secure an invisible layer of cling-wrap over the actual lavatory seat. He'd done the trick many times throughout his life and it never got old. Which was why it was the first thing he checked on entering.

Some might say he was taking things to the extreme, but a man could never be too careful in these circumstances. After all, he had taught her the fine art of breaking and entering.

Once he was assured she hadn't snuck into his place and meddled, Greg allowed himself to relax and get on with his morning.

He grinned at his reflection as he turned the hot water on, mentally going over the plan until he was sure he could pull it off smoothly and flawlessly.

His best pair of Levi's had been washed and ironed last night. Black, loosely fitting around the leg, tight around the ass, red design on the right hand back pocket. To match, he had his best black shirt, also washed and ironed the night before, and a t-shirt specially designed for his minxy little insubordinate.

Add all that to a brand new pair of red Chucks, the shower gel and cologne set Wilson got him for Christmas, and he was good to go. Well, almost good to go.

He just needed to trim his beard a bit and run through his script until he got it just so. Too practiced would rouse suspicion and too unrehearsed wouldn't make it believable.

Greg took a deep breath and began working on his masterpiece.

&&&&&&

Her car wasn't in the lot, but that didn't mean she wasn't at the hospital.

On nice days, House knew Cameron liked to have a leisurely stroll or jog to work, while Fridays were cab days so she could go out for a beer with the other two duckies after. Mondays were her early days because she was Allison Cameron and Allison Cameron started as she meant to go on.

He knew everything about her, absolutely everything. How she preferred a bitter ale to lager, red wine to white, cheeseburger to pizza, Chinese to Indian, but that was just superficial stuff which anyone could learn. He knew other, much more private stuff.

Stuff that only a deeply obsessed stalker could know and if he found out that anyone else knew what he did, then there'd be some serious trouble happening round the place. He only did it so he knew his enemy and not because he was a deranged psychotic stalker intent on proving his love by various creepy methods.

He unzipped his jacket just enough to tease and could feel himself smirking, and stopped himself as quickly as possible. Too smug a look would draw suspicion and right now, suspicion was the last thing he wanted. Attention, yes, but not suspicion.

He paused.

Even too much attention would be bad...

Hm.

How to get attention without asking for it?

"Cripple card?" House mused as he walked towards the hospital entrance, but shook away the idea as being overused. "Not being rude?"

On one hand, it would certainly draw attention and possibly land him on the psych ward, but on the other he didn't have a better idea. Unless...

He took a moment to grin before schooling his features into something resembling a scowl of moderate annoyance and waltzed into the lobby.

"Good morning, Doctor..." Whoever said it never got to finish or got a response as House carried on towards the elevator.

Every ten steps or so, he'd slow a little until he stopped outright to yawn and rub his eyes. As expected, one of the oh so caring people in the hospital approached him.

"Are you okay?" A nurse asked. "You look tired."

Obviously new, he thought, or she wouldn't have bothered. Fun and consequently perfect. "Coming into work this early will do that to ya."

"Well actually..."

"Do I look interested? No? That's because I'm not. Now scram before I prescribe..." He purposely looked at her and double-blinked. "I was gonna say ugly pills, but you're one step ahead of me."

The young woman frowned. "I was only asking if..."

"Look," House sighed the sigh of a man truly exhausted. "Betty..."

"Bethany."

Yeah, yeah. Whatever. "Have you been up all night with a puking partner?"

Bethany's frown turned to concern. "No. Has your partner been checked out?"

"Oh yeah. Many times. Rectal _and_ vaginal. Just this morning I was testing Doctor Cameron's oral cavity with a really big thermometre. She was in excellent health." Betty was speechless. Cool. More fodder for his cannon. "You should sign up for one. You seem to be having trouble formulating words."

Without waiting for a response, House gave a sigh full of woe and suffering. "Doctor Cameron is a female. Pretty brunette, about your height and weight, but with much perkier breasts. Irregular pukathons, no menstrual cycle for sixteen weeks prior to continous vaginal use by a very virile, very handsome doctor that Doctor Cameron can't say no to."

Bethany's frown of concern slowly faded until her blue eyes lit up. No wonder he had been a bit rude. The poor man had been up half the night supporting his pregnant partner. "Doctor Cameron's expecting?"

He grinned and looked at the floor for a second, just long enough to give all the appearance of bashfulness. "Wanna see my t-shirt?" Again, he didn't wait for an answer. He unzipped his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.

Bethany laughed as she read the words printed in red. "Congratulations," she said, her smile going from ear to ear. "When's your baby due?"

"September."

She laughed again. "Ah, a Winter Wonder then."

House arched a brow. Maybe Betty wasn't one of the brainless idiots that wandered around Princeton Plainsboro. Very few people knew why there was a baby boom in the Fall. "T'was the night before Christmas and nothing was stirring except..."

"Your big thermometre?" Bethany chuckled. "What department is she in? I'll send her some flowers. My mom is a florist and I get great deals."

He loved new nurses, really he did. "Diagnostics," he said, then purposely lowered his voice. "I'm her boss and well, we don't want anyone thinking she slept with me to further her career."

Her eyes widened to the point where they nigh on left their sockets. Sure she'd seen other office romances fall to wreck and ruin, but if this man was anything to go by, then this office romance wasn't going to be one of them. Besides, she never could resist matters of the heart. She'd been the instigator of several marriages in her life and all of them were still going strong, so Bethany knew a good one when she saw one.

She gave him a smile and a wink. "Ohhhh. I see. I'll be very discreet. What's her first name?"

"Allison," House stated with just the right amount of pride. "Doctor Allison Cameron and if you can arrange a side order of Forsythia, I'll..."

Bethany waved a hand. "I'll take care of that. You get yourself to work, Doctor..."

"House," he supplied, fighting to contain himself.

"Off you go to Diagnostics and I'll get you your flowers."

"Thank you, Betty."

"Bethany."

Must be polite to the unknowing accomplice, he thought. "I've been up all night," he said. "Forgive me?"

"Of course," she said and shook her finger at him. "But just this once."

"Understood, Bet..." He waited until she gave him a playful glare. "What? I was going to say Bethany."

"Hmm. Now shoo. Go to work and make her a nice pot of coffee. Despite what us medics say, a good coffee never hurt anybody."

&&&&&&

Allison Cameron woke up and didn't waste any time whatsoever.

She leaned to the left and yanked up the sheets, scanning the area under her bed with a careful gaze. She flipped herself upright and did the same with the left side, sighing in relief when she saw nothing and no-one under her bed.

Sitting upright, she tugged her pajama top down and gave a cursory glance around her room, surveying each of her little traps.

The wire taped across her bedroom door was still intact, stating there had been no intruder. The white powder lavishly poured over her drawers remained untouched, stating no fingers had been mooching through her stuff while she slept.

Of course that didn't mean anything where Greg House was concerned. He was cunning as could be and if he wanted in, then he'd get in, no matter what.

That lesson was heartily learned after the frog incident last Friday. How he'd managed to get past her living room traps to hide a frog in her underwear drawer was something she had yet to figure out.

She got out of bed and double checked her slippers for substances, slimy or otherwise. Finding none, she quickly shoved them on and hurried to the door, carefully unhooking the wire before poking her head around the door and looking around her living room.

There were no foot prints in the flour sprinkled by the door, which was a good sign, and the tape covering her treadmill setting dial was untouched, also another good sign that nothing was out of place. Well, nothing _seemed_ out of place as the case maybe.

Allison left the safety of her bedroom and came to a pause next to the large fish tank, and smiled down at the resident. She was going to set the little guy free, but one look into those dark eyes and she'd been a goner.

She dipped her hands into the water bowl set beside his home, getting her palms nice and moist just in case he decided to jump on. "Morning, Fred," she cooed, opening the tank so the little guy could start getting used to her. "Who's a good little froggy? You are! Yes, you are!"

The little guy blinked and gave her a sound that simply turned her to mush. "Aw! Mommy loves you too! Yes she does! Now," she gave Fred a push into the water bowl. "You play nice while Mommy gets your breakfast. She's got you some nice, juicy crickets. Yes she has!"

She made sure the tank lid was secure before going to get the crickets. Yes, they were vile little cretins that made her skin crawl, but Fred liked them. Sure he was a frog, but that didn't mean he deserved to go without purely because of her girly aversion to bugs.

She'd be asking one of the guys to come over once a week because of said aversion and that'd be bad enough without having one of them call round every morning before work. Crickets and flies were one thing, but locusts were something else entirely.

Once Fred had his breakfast and some clean water in which to frolic, Allison went into the bathroom and again glanced around. She went through everything from shampoo and conditioner to skin cleanser and toothpaste, double checking until she felt secure that they hadn't been switched with something akin to hair dye or facial hair bleach.

Seeing it was all good, she went about turning on the shower, watching to make sure the water ran clear.

Maybe today would be the day she wouldn't have to look over her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Love is a Battlefield

Author: Scorch

Email: Miss_.uk

Rating: NC-17

Category: Humour/Romance

Summary: Every action has a reaction.

Disclaimer: I own nixies.

Distribution: , this place, my place, and Lea's place.

Notes: THANK YOU to Lea for her help. This chapter almost kicked my ass.

_Chapter 2_...

The first thing Allison noticed when arrived at the hospital was House's bike and the sight of it caused dread to bubble up in her stomach.

He had gotten here early.

It was a quarter to nine by her watch and it was early for her, let alone Greg House.

If he was early then that meant he was either upto something or he'd been called in for an emergency. If it had been an emergency, the others and herself would have been knocked out of bed early follow orders via phone. Since they hadn't, or at least she hadn't, been knocked out of bed at stupid o'clock, she figured he was upto something.

Allison's mind went haywire and quickened her pace. Hell only knew what that man was doing.

Whoopie cushion on her chair, glue on the handle of her locker, a crackerjack box in her locker, tampons replaced with cotton wool swabs, jello in her lab coat pockets...

The list of what Greg House could and would do was endless.

The bubble of dread was forgotten about when someone held the door open for her and smiled at her nod of gratitude. She hurried through the lobby, oblivious as the conversations dropped to whispers that accompanied a dozen eyes following her rapid walk.

Thankfully, the elevator was already on the ground floor so it didn't take long for her to reach her destination, though it was long enough for Allison to come up with a few plans just in case.

She purposely halted the power walking as she neared the Duck Pond, as she called it. If she went in there looking nervous and harried, then he'd know she was on edge and if he knew she was on edge, he'd use it to his advantage. The last thing she needed was to give him more ammo or give him another reason to smirk.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her skirt and held her head high as she resumed the short journey, ready to enjoy the few minutes of R&R Chase, Foreman, and herself got before something came their way.

To say she liked those minutes was an understatement.

Since moving to New Jersey for the fellowship with House, there hadn't been much of a chance to go out and make friends or have a social life. Working at Princeton was a lot more hectic than she'd first thought and sure there was only one or two patients a week sent to Diagnostics, but they also had other work to do.

Clinic hours, for one, and usually they not only did they cover their own hours, but the hours of House. Then there was the E.R. If there was an emergency, like last week's ten car pile-up, they were on hand. So the E.R. wasn't in their job description, but they were doctors and if they could help, they did. Then there were other departments in the hospital and if they could help there, then they would and they often did.

Allison knew Chase and Foreman were in a similar situation to her, which was why they had a drink every Friday night. Neither heard one of the others say _sorry, I have plans_. It was always _what time_ closely followed by _Cam will get the cab from her place, pick me up, then you_.

She didn't mind going out with 'the guys' at all. If anything, she preferred it to going out with other women. Men were less bitchy, didn't look at a woman oddly if she liked a pint of ale more than a martini.

"Cameron."

Wilson's voice shook her out of her thoughts.

His face was almost split in two because of his grin and she couldn't help but respond.

James Wilson was one of those people that looked approachable. He had a kind smile that reached warm brown eyes that had crow's feet.

"How are you?"

"Me?" She asked and felt stupid. Which other Cameron was he talking too? Obviously she didn't need House's help with looking like an idiot. A feeling only made worse when he chuckled.

"Yes," he replied, his grin grew wider if it was possible. "You."

"Oh. I'm fi..."

A gruff, husky voice cut off short her response and both doctors rolled their eyes.

"Hey! No messing with my swan."

"I thought I was a duckling."

"You were until I got my hands on you."

Allison rolled her eyes, an expression copied by the oncologist.

House was smiling. Not smirking, but smiling. It was a nice smile she grudgingly admitted to herself. One that drew attention to his structured jaw and gave a little glimpse of white teeth hidden by surprisingly pink lips. Her gaze followed that jaw line, tracing the way his cheekbones rounded just below his eyes and...

She mentally gave her head a damn good shake. Sleeping with the enemy was _bad_.

Thankfully, House appeared not to noticed her little daze as he focused on the appearance of confusion. "Or was it the other way round?" He snapped out of his mock reminiscing and stared at her in a way that made her teeth grind. "What do you say, darlin? My hands or yours?"

Allison glared at her boss for a moment before turning to Jim with a forced smile. "As I was saying..."

"My hands," House stated, yet again interrupting her. "You were in my bedroom wearing a French maid's outfit... Or were you naked? Ah, details schmetails."

Wilson sighed right along with the young immunologist. "I would say ignore him and he'll go away, but that's just wishful thinking."

"Or were you in the kitchen wearing a cute little apron that said I'm Easy?"

She shot her boss a glare that would have Satan investing in ice skates, then realised she was on enabling him. He was like a child. Any attention, good or bad, was still attention.

Allison defrosted her glare and looked to Wilson while forcing out a chuckle. "Or he's hinting for more of your macadamia pancakes. Good idea, by the way. I never thought of that."

House purposely stared off into the distance. "Or was it the bathroom where you being all shy and modest?"

James took a leaf out of her book and carried as though Greg wasn't there. "You like to cook?"

"Not cooking as such, just..."

"New ideas on old favourites?"

"No, no," House mused. "You were in the hallway... Yeah, definitely the hallway. Waitin on your man whose hands couldn't say no to those nipple tassles."

"Yes!" She exaggerated the word in a desperate attempt to drown out a certain voice while glaring at the owner of said voice. "I usually use fruit in my wraps."

Despite a genuine love of cooking and recipes, Jim had to admit, "I never thought about that."

Allison quickly replied lest her boss get in there first. "And I never thought about adding nuts to my pancakes." Then really wished she hadn't got there first and mentally cringed.

Before Wilson could comment, a giggle sounded out. A very male giggle that came from their left and they both turned to face the elder doctor, whose smile was now an out and out grin.

It took less than a second for the meaning to sink in and then two sighs of exasperation hit the air.

"In some cases ignorance is bliss, but all rules have their exceptions. Jimmy-Jim-Jim, off to the bald ones with you and Allie-Al-Al, there's some menial task with your name on it. I think it's clinic duty."

Wilson went to say something, but a glare from his best friend put a stop to that.

"Go, my little swan. Go, go, go," and he watched the young woman be shooed away. It wasn't until she was fully inside the diagnostics room that House fully faced the oncologist with his glare intact. "What do you think you're doing?"

&&&&&&

Wilson blinked, blinked again, and blinked again. "What?"

Ice blue eyes rolled. "You know what."

"No, I really don't."

"Your big mouth is what!"

Wilson opened said big mouth, but got no chance to speak.

"See?" House pointed with his free hand. "Big mouth. You were about to say something to her!"

"Would that something be the words _have a nice day_?"

"No, that something was going to be _take it easy, Cameron_. At least I hope it was Cameron. I'm the only one with Allison privileges."

Wilson went to say another something before thinking better of fibbing. "Okay," he confessed with a sigh. "So I was going to tell her to take it easy. What's wrong with telling a pregnant woman to take things easy?"

A choked out laugh was the first response and the second was the word _duh_. "How you bagged three wives is beyond me. Do you know anything about women at all? I would ask do you know anything about Allison, but your answer to that better be a big, fat no."

Huh? Oh... "I get it," Wilson stated with a little nod that showed he understood. "She's pregnant, not an invalid. I take it clinic duty is to keep her away from..."

"Sick people who could have a damaging effect on my progeny?" House supplied. "It's also a way to keep me away from her continual vomiting. God, that stuff stinks. Especially when her idea of a good meal involves cheesy fries covered with baked beans."

Silence descended on the two doctors until they both shuddered and agreed. "Gross."

"Food habits aside," Wilson stuffed his hands in his pockets and regarded his friend with a critical gaze.

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."

The oncologist sighed. "Can I at least see the shirt again?"

House grinned.

&&&&&&

Lunch came and with it came a sense of paranoia the likes of which she'd never known.

Hoping for something was a fair bit different to having it.

That morning, Allison had hoped she would have nothing to look out for, nothing to be wary of, that this childish spat between her boss and herself would be over. Unfortunately that seemed to be the case.

She knew how idiotic she appeared when asking Chase to check her cup of coffee, stating it tasted weird. He'd done so without being asked twice and simply smiled as he handed it back to her with a shake of his head and an easy shrug.

So nothing in her coffee, nothing anywhere else.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

If it were anyone other than Greg House, Allison would have brushed it off. Nothing was ever nothing where that man was concerned.

Ever.

She was sat there, her chicken salad untouched, and a carton of orange juice in front of her. Her mind had been working overtime, but nothing had come across as suspicious. Either House had gotten bored or something else had distracted him.

Allison smiled a little. Knowing her boss, that something would be a new DS game.

"Excuse me?"

The brunette started a little as the tap on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts and she glanced behind herself to see a young man sporting a shirt saying Flower Power, one arm behind his back.

"Are you Doctor Allison Cameron?"

"Yes..."

His nervous posture relaxed and he all but beamed at her. "Finally," he said through a smile. "I've been all the way to Diagnostics, but you weren't there, and then I was sent to the clinic, but you weren't there either, then I was sent to the immy... emmy..."

She helped, "Immunology?"

"Yeah! Oh, uh, I mean yes. I went to the... the... Imm-new-nol-o-gee department and when you weren't there, I was sent back to Diagnostics and you still weren't there, so I went back to the clinic and you weren't there, and nurse Brenda said you might be in here and so here I am."

Allison didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The poor boy had been on a wild goose chase. She decided to give him a break and choose to simply put him out of his misery. "You've had quite the day, Mr..."

He blinked. "Oh, right. Bart. Bart Reed and I work for my mom, who'sa florist and owns her shop called Flower Power and she gets all these real pretty flowers from everywhere and I get free stuff for my girlfriend, who loves flowers, especially carnations and honeysuckle."

She had to cough to hide her amusement and offered the poor young man her drink. "Would you like some juice?"

"Would I ever! I mean, this place is huge and I've been all over, and did you know they have a special place for special diseases here, I think it's Diagnostics and the doctor there is really smart and he's the one that told me where I could find you because I have a delivery for you."

Allison was instantly on alert. "Would this doctor happen to have a cane?"

"Yeah... I mean yes and I wanted to ask, but my mom told me it wasn't polite to ask, so I told the doctor that it made him look cool, and then he asked if his sneakers were cool, and I said yes, then he said cool. He's okay for an old guy."

Oooh! Why that little...

She inwardly seethed as she took apart Bart's natural talent for talking at the speed of light for information. House was clever, she knew that, but this?

This was just stone cold brilliant.

Exploiting a young man's inability to keep quiet while simultaenously exploiting the young man's ability to pretty much recite what was said and how.

There was no doubting she was up against a true master of the arts.

"So," Allison handed Bart his juice and watched, half amused, as he gulped back the lot. "You have something for me?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah... I..."

"Mean yes, I get it."

Then there was nothing around but flowers and fragrance.

She couldn't stop the gasp if she tried. They were _beautiful_.

Her eyes followed the red flowers as they spiralled around a second spiral of white flowers, each flower in a decreasing stage of bloom until it came to the middle flower, which was a simple yellow bud. The design was artistic, done with a careful eye of someone exceptionally talented in the profression, and Allison had two very different reactions.

One was envy.

Envy that she couldn't do stuff like that if she tried and two was shock.

Who would send her flowers like _these_?

"Wha... Who... How..." and more to the point, why?

Bart was positively beaming. "You like it? My mom told me I was being a girl, but girls like flowers, at least my girlfriend likes flowers, and since Doctor Allison Cameron was a girl, I thought you'd like something nice to celebrate, and..."

"Wait, wait," Allison shook her head and tried to focus on something other than the floral magnificience. "You designed this?"

Then she watched the young man's face turn a shade of red she'd never seen in her life. "My mom chose the flowers and she started with amaryllis, which means pride, determination, and radiant beauty, which is pretty much pastoral poetry, and the white flowers are white roses and while a blossomed white rose means secrecy and innocence, but a white rose bud means girlhood, and that was my idea because my cousin just had a baby girl and I couldn't help myself cos little Maggie is cute as hell, but the yellow flower in the middle is a forsythia and it means anticipation."

Okay, never before had she had so much information delivered in so short a time. She started from the beginning.

Amaryllis was pride, determination, and radiant beauty, which was pretty much pastoral poetry. Fully blossomed white roses meant secrecy and innocence. White rose buds symbolised girlhood. Forsythia was anticipation.

Yeah, House was blame and no, she didn't know why, but she was not going to turn down such a gorgeous display, and especially not one made by poor Bart.

Allison accepted the bouquet, well aware every eye in the cafeteria was on her. The fragrance was an absolute delight, particularly when her nose usually inhaled hospital disinfectant. "Thank you, Bart. These are beautiful."

Again, the young man beamed. "Thanks... I mean, thank you, Doctor. Cameron and congratulations."

Between her mental oohing and ahhing over her bouquet, she wondered. "Congratulations? For what?"


End file.
